


Black Mareep

by RayeTaye



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Abuse, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hi mom, Hiatus, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Possible smut, Rating will change, Short Chapters, based on my own experiences tbh, sorry lmao, super angsty past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:12:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayeTaye/pseuds/RayeTaye
Summary: Oh jeez here we go again.Reader is basically a mini Guzma but with a more fucked up pastTired of being an Unovan street rat, you travel to Alola, albeit illegally.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> holy shit i dont know im so confused  
> one half of me is like 'gladion' and the other is like 'guzma'  
> i dont knowwwww

You jerked your head down, barley avoiding the flying bottle. The glass shattered over your head. The plates and bottles kept coming. It was all a sick game for him, wasn't it? This happened just about every day and went on for at the very least an hour. You never understood why he got so mad with you. It was like your appearance just set him off. The night almost always ended with you locking yourself in the basement or another room. Whatever door you got your hands on it was locked. However that night you locked yourself in your bedroom. Your window was open, letting in the fresh Unova air. Without a second thought, you packed a few things into a backpack and left. The ball of your trusty Growlithe felt warm in your hands. It was almost as though he was encouraging you. 'Get your ass out of this hellhole' You imagined. And that was exactly what you did.

You became a street rat. A fucking tramp. Well, maybe not exactly a tramp. You didn't just beg. You lied, cheated, stole, anything you had to to live for those few months. You were surprised your deadbeat dad never came looking for you. You were glad, though. That was one less thing you had to worry about. You got by pretty well. But eventually, you got tired of the same old thing. Not only were you sick of it, but you were starting to get noticed. One day, you were drinking a bottle of water (which you bought with money you stole..) on a bench and reading a magazine. Your eyes scanned the pages, you were about to throw it on the ground when the caption 'Alola!' caught your attention. The bold words were in front of a rather tropical looking place. You had heard of Alola before. There was a boat leaving for it in the port. It was leaving soon if memory served you correct.

It turned out you only had an hour to decide. Where you going to board the boat and start a new life in Alola or not?

Yes. Yes you were. However you were short of money (Stolen. COUGH) and that trip was expensive! Damn! But you were determined. You somehow managed to climb into the boat. Not only did you manage that, but you also managed to pull off acting as a passenger, which was fucking fantastic. How lucky were you? The voyage lasted about five or six days. It wasn't like you were counting, though. The second your bare feet touched the soft sand, you became uncomfortable. You were so used to the hard surfaces in life. How had you missed such things? The answer was obvious. It was right under your nose but you still couldn't admit it. You trudged forward into town.


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ew no

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This takes place about three months after you arrived in Alola. Your Growlithe is now an Arcanine and you probably have a few more pokemon, but that's up to you. Hell your entire team is kinda up to you.)

You found out about Team Skull simply by eavesdropping one day. You were working in the Hau'oli city Malasada Shop. Thanks to your self proclaimed 'Street Smarts' you picked up on certain words. These words being negative. "I heard Team Skull was starting to steal pokemon here again." "Yeah, I wonder when someone's gonna put those misfits down." After that, you did your research and traveled to Ula'ula.

And now here you were, hidden in the bushes outside of Po Town in the middle of the night. It was so dark, the sky was filled with dark grey clouds just like you had heard it would be. You eyed the two grunts who were guarding the door. What did you have to lose? You got up suddenly, the rustling catching their attention as you walked out from behind the shrubbery and walked closer.

"Yo, who're you??" One asked as the other sat, staring at you. "I'd like to talk with your boss. Is this a bad time?" You asked, staring right back at the seated grunt with a hardy glare. The grunt was about to reply, but stopped. "Hey, speak of the devil, hey boss someone-" "You wanna join Team Skull or somethin', girlie?" You turned around, "Yeah, something like that." You stopped. Their boss was quite intimidating, despite being hunched over, he seemed to tower over you. "Whaddya mean, 'something like that'?"

You hesitated before you answered. "I came here because I heard about Team Skull, and I think I'll fit in here." You answered honestly, breaking eye contact for a split second to 'observe your surroundings'. In all seriousness, though; You were nervous. "Really? Whatcha been through, kid?"

You fumbled with the end of your hoodie. "I'm not a kid, and I don't want to talk about it. Not now, not ever. I came here to forget about it and start over." You rasped out, inwardly scolding yourself at how pathetic it made you sound. You sighed and looked back up at the man. "Besides, it's in the past."

The man seemed to have frozen in thought. It felt like an hour before he finally said something. "Welcome to the gang, then!" He announced rather loudly. "Ay, open the door boys, I'm a show... er.." "(Y/N)." "(Y/N) around!" And they did just that. You walked beside the man, trying your best to ignore the looks you got. The inside of Po Town was withered, it honestly looked like a gang war happened. It was awfully quiet.

The boss man opened the door to a rather large mansion, going up the stairs and out onto the roof, all with you following. He led you into a room and sat down on a purple throne. "I ain't gonna press you about it, but it'd let me get a better idea about who you really are if you told me what happened to make ya join Team Skull." You bit the inside of your cheek. You wanted so badly to tell someone your 'sob story', but you couldn't. "I'd like to talk about it, but I can't. Not right now at least." You finally answered, adverting your eyes. He frowned, "'Ite, but if you ever need to get it off your chest, ya boy Guzma is here." You weakly smiled. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." "Well, we don't have any more uniforms left right now, so you can just wear what you got on now, you look good in it anyways."

"...Thanks...?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry about the late upload, I got hella sick and my ma wouldn't let me use anything as she claims that 'if you can use the computer you aren't sick.')


	3. TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get tense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so fucking tired but i cant sleep, so have this relating chapter <3

One thing you hated was sleeping. You couldn't normally sleep anyways, but when you did sleep, it was terrible. Sometimes it would be a horror scenario totally made up, nothing to do with your personal life. Other times it was purely personal. Flashbacks, horrible flashbacks. Yeah, it sounds angsty. But your life was shit. You woke up in a cold sweat, cursing to yourself quietly. You got up, making sure to be extra quiet on account of the kids sleeping in the same room you were in.

The wood creaked quietly with every step you took. You rubbed at your eyes, growling softly. You made your way to the kitchen slowly. You flicked the light on. The time on the stove read '4:47am'. You grunted and pulled out a chair from the table, sitting and pulling out your phone. It was an old flip phone, you had bought it used after secretly saving up whatever cash you had back in Unova. Your thumb lightly grazed over the label on the back of it; A habit you found unbreakable. It helped to soothe you for some reason. In fact, you had done it so much that the color was worn. You were always stressed, if not bored.

You remember vividly staring at the screen nervously, waiting for an amber alert to pop up about you. You chuckled to yourself. Of course it wouldn't happen. Your dad was probably happy that you were out of his hair. You were happy to be out of his hair. You blinked, above you the wood creaked. Who would be awake at this hour, you asked yourself. You just hoped they wouldn't come in the kitchen. You didn't want to answer any questions. You had washed your makeup off last night, the makeup that covered a scar on your cheek. And you had no doubt your eyes were bloodshot from just waking up from that nightmare. (You had cried in your sleep.) You quickly let your hair fall down, making sure it covered your cheeks.

As luck would have it, they came to the kitchen. Who else was it other than the boss-man himself. He shielded his eyes, likely surprised by the light already being on. Then his eyes laid on you, clearly surprised to see you up. "What're you doing up so early?" He asked. "I don't sleep well." You replied honestly, looking back down to your phone. He shrugged and walked over to the cabinet that hung over the stove. "Tapu Cocoa?" He asked, grabbing a mug. "What?" "Do you want some Tapu Cocoa?" He asked again, setting the first mug down and grabbing another. "Uh, yeah, sure." You replied tiredly. You stared at the screen, shifting through your old contacts. Contacts that either never called or eventually stopped trying. Names like 'Ashhole' or 'Dickbutt' littered the recents list. At the very bottom lied it. 'Deadbeat dad'.

Now you didn't know it, but out of the corner of his eye, even when he was pouring the freshly made Tapu Cocoa, Guzma has been watching the screen. So, when he read 'Deadbeat dad', he had some idea as to what he was dealing with. He turned, setting the mug down in front of you and talking a drink of his own. "That's an old ass phone you got there." He commented, pulling out a chair and sitting down. "Yeah, but it was what I could afford." You smiled weakly, taking the mug and sipping the drink.

Guzma sneered, "Your dad, was he a piece of shit?" He asked, causing you to tense up visibly. You slowly sat the mug down, being careful not to break it despite knowing you wouldn't. You gulped before changing the subject. "Time... Sure does fly by here, huh?" You asked, to which he frowned. "I know I said I wouldn't press ya, but I feel like you should know that most of us, if not all of us have been through rough times." He said. You let out a shaky sigh, turning to the taller man. "Yeah, well." You tried to say something, whatever you could. "I... He wasn't gonna win the father of the year award." You smiled, trying to make light of the situation. "Anyways, I should probably get whatever little sleep I can." You said, getting up from your seat. "Not gonna happen after you drank that. It wakes you up good." He smirked, kicking his legs up onto the table. "But knock yourself out." "..." "Not literally."


	4. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, it's been too long!! I've almost forgotten that this existed! I've just been going through a ton lately! Anyways, enjoy this long awaited chapter!!
> 
> **THERE ARE MENTIONS OF ABUSE IN THIS CHAPTER!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: A lot of family problems are happening rn, so it's really likely that this (and every other story) isn't going to be updated for a good while. In other words, it's safe to say everything is on hiatus until told otherwise.

As expected, you couldn't sleep. Frustration clawed at the back of your neck as you affectively ignored the soft snores around you. The room was cramped. There were only two beds that were put together, the rest being on the ground. The room looked barely big enough to fit five beds in, but somehow they managed to fit six. Time seemed to go by slowly in this room. You began to define reminiscent about your childhood.

The history between your mother and father is a tainted one. Their overall chemistry was extremely rocky and unstable, resulting in several fights and clashes between the two. You were an only child and were smothered by your loving mother. She loved you dearly. Your father on the other hand wasn't as affectionate; rather he couldn't care less about you or his loving, devoted wife. Your mother also had tried to raise another troubled child that wasn't even hers; he was the outcome of her husbands earlier relationships. (But he was much older than you and moved out of the situation as soon as he turned eighteen.) This along with trying to protect her children from their father's wrath caused a poisonous buildup of stress. You grew to understand that the relationship between your parents was not mutual nor healthy. As a matter of fact, you knew fully well what it was.

It was terrible. It angered you to know you couldn't do much of anything to stop it. Once you woke up to your half drunken father and your sober mother fighting. It looked like he was gonna punch her, but she got there first. She landed a punch right on his left eye, affectively stunning him. You don't remember much else from that night, but he tended to keep away from getting too physical with their quarrels after that. I mean, he had a black eye for a good half of the month. That's something, ain't it? Anyways, just because it wasn't physical didn't mean she wasn't getting hurt; She was getting hurt bad.

After a good while of verbal abuse, most people can't take the heat and break down. Words affect people just as much as any bruise can, if not more. Your mother was living proof of that.  
Well, if she was alive. At the age of thirty-seven, she died. She died of stress related complications. Stress is a killer. Stress has no mercy.

It never did.


	5. Author's note.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiatus ;;

My grandfather just took his last breath at 6:01 am today, February 6. My mother is taking it pretty hard, so everything is defiantly on delay as I have to comfort her.  
Sorry!!


	6. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> really short bc i have no motivation rn  
> i wanted to get a chapter out so i just rolled with something i came up with,

You were seated at the dinner table, when suddenly, your phone buzzed. You had received a text, which was odd because no one really knew your number other than a few people in team skull. You read the text. Then, you turned ghost white and abruptly sat up, startling everyone. Before anyone had a chance to ask what was wrong, you ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs, swinging open a door and slamming it loudly.

You didn't bother to look up when the door opened, bringing light to your rather pitiful face. You just cried into the pillow. You weren't sure what to do anymore, how he kept finding you was a mystery. Terrified tears wet the pillow your hands clutched so tightly; it almost looked like you'd rip the fabric. Guzma stared at you. He'd never seen you like this. He didn't want to see you like this ever again. He went to place a large hand on your shoulder, and as soon as his hand made contact with you, your head snapped up; your eyes stared at him with what looked like pure terror. And then he knew, something was terribly wrong.

"What the hell happened?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the wait, i'm having a tON of family problems rn. not just my grandpa, but a lot of things im not really comfortable discussing here rn.


End file.
